


Put Yourself in My Shoes

by TWFKA3I



Category: Original Work
Genre: Homophobic Language, Physical Abuse, Sexual Content, Sexual Harassment, Slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 14:28:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13460190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TWFKA3I/pseuds/TWFKA3I
Summary: Honestly though, what would you have done instead?Content warnings: sexual harassment, foul language (including gendered and homophobic slurs), abuse, and violence.





	Put Yourself in My Shoes

**Author's Note:**

> Content warnings: There's sexual harassment, foul language (including gendered and homophobic slurs), abuse, and violence. This is dark. You have been warned.

Put yourself in my shoes. 

Spend a whole year smiling at your boss every time he tries to reach up your skirt because you need to scrounge up money and no one else will pay that much. Keep your mouth shut every time that fucking bitch Tina calls you a faggot. Keep your face blank every time your dad yells at you for being a an ungrateful cunt. Spend all day studying because your teachers are useless and spend all night filling out college applications that cost $90 a pop. Make sure no one who knows you knows about either of those activities. Keep your head down, keep trudging, keep moving. Get into college as far away from home as possible. Last until after graduation. Think “oh fuck I’m finally free.”

And then have it all come crashing down. Because that fucking bitch Tina saw you at the corner store cashing a check. Because that fucking bitch Tina talked to your mother, all smarmy and sickly sweet, and said “Oh, Mrs. Terras, isn’t it great that Alice makes such good pay at Mr. Stewart’s office? It must be really nice to have that extra cash at the house. Oh you didn’t know she worked there? She’s been working there for ages...” Because your mother told your father about your new-old job and how much money you were making. Because your father realized you had not actually been giving him half your pay for rent. Because your father dug through all your things and took all the money you had stashed away, even the jar buried in the backyard. Because when you came home for what you had planned to be the last time, you were met with punches and kicks and awful awful words screamed into your face.

Go on. Run to the kitchen, followed by blows. Try and hide. Be pulled by your hair and held by the throat. Be bleeding and broken and hopeless. See the knife coming towards you. Feel it as it plunges into your thigh and stays there. Feel the blood rushing out, soaking you, your pants, the kitchen floor. See the blessing, the opportunity, as he turns to yell at your mother and how useless she was, and why couldn’t she see how you deserved it. Yank the knife out of your thigh.

And then tell me you wouldn’t be sitting in this jail cell right here with me.


End file.
